14. Caelus
Caelus
The Parthenon was preternaturally still. Waiting. Holding its breath. Like the hall itself had been mocking me for the past hour. Ten champions had returned — leaving two unaccounted for — and the final bell was sounding.
Various creatures filled the spaces between gods — prowling, bleating, hissing. Lykos was by far the largest among them, though not the only wolf. Apollo had earned the favour of a smaller, golden-coloured male.
He is a good omen, Lykos intoned.
Who, Apollo?
No. The wolf. The fact that he chose to bond says more about that god’s character than anything the man could have done himself.
You know him?
I do.
The bell’s final notes must have been close, its song fading. My stomach twisted uncomfortably, and trepidation set my fingertips tapping against my thigh. Hermes’ grin was gloating, gleeful — I had the sudden urge to smack it right off of his snivelling face.
Where in Tartarus is she?
The air buzzed with an icy chill, sharp and biting — a faint whisper of warning.
Finally.
I loosed a deep, shuddering breath as shadows bled across the marble floor. They swirled and coiled together into a single inky mass.
She made it. Thank the fucking Furies.
Beside me, Lykos huffed an amused breath, and Aphrodite immediately shuffled back a step, eyes wide with apprehension. Surprisingly, the goddess had returned from the forest before any other champion — and perched on her bare shoulder was a dove the colour of fresh snow.
She appeared completely undaunted by Artemis’ trial.
Her pale pink gown draped perfectly across her torso, unstained and unwrinkled.
Her wheat-coloured waves remained perfectly coiled, not a strand out of place.
I briefly wondered how Aphrodite , of all people, had breezed through — animal companion comfortably acquired — while the rest of us were a little worse for wear.
A tale for another time, I supposed.
The inky tendrils climbed higher and wider, flickering like smoke caught in a breeze. They twisted further towards the ceiling until a figure walked through a jet-black archway, just as the bell’s toll finally ceased.
No. Not walked .
Nyssa limped through, one agonising step at a time.
A tightness gripped my chest as I realised she could barely stand. But that paled compared to the full-body flinch that shook me when I took in the rest of her — she looked like something from a nightmare.
Or perhaps a Herculean legend.
“Holy shit,” Aros whispered from my left.
The goddess of death was barely recognisable, save for the frosty scowl she wore like armour.
A shield against gods who would see her destroyed.
Who would shove her back into that tiny little box they had allocated for her in their minds.
Who would rather bury her in the depths of the Underworld, where all their unsavoury dealings wound up.
From across the hall, I catalogued her wounds, attempting to imagine what had managed to inflict such significant damage to the daughter of Hades.
Cuts smattered her skin like constellations.
Her face was stained black in the goriest of war paint, emerald eyes piercing, sharp against the dark backdrop.
A jagged slash ran diagonally from collarbone to waist, shredding her torso.
Golden ichor mixed freely with the inky black blood of her foe.
Her breathing was shallow and her posture rigid — stubbornly refusing to acknowledge the full extent of her pain.
My eyes dropped and I blanched. Horrified, and horrifyingly awed, I discovered a third of her right thigh was simply… gone. Muscle torn away in a deep, jagged chunk. Yet somehow, impossibly, she remained standing, her expression daring anyone to provoke her.
Nyssa, fierce as she looked, clutched her wound tightly, holding herself together through pure will. I suspected her bravado was waning, however.
Every aching muscle in my body strained as I fought the insane urge to go to her. It was a deep, primal response, one that didn’t make any sense. But nothing had made sense since she was thrust back into my life a month ago.
Wrapped around her blood-spattered wrist — so small I’d almost missed it — was a tiny, violet-hued dragon.
It nestled against her blackened skin, coiling possessively around her forearm, scales shimmering where sunlight touched them.
Golden serpentine eyes surveyed the room.
Its wings gave the barest flare, ready to defend its goddess.
Good.
The chamber was startled into silence. Even the usual smirks of Aros and Leander had vanished as they took her in. I almost growled at their lingering stares.
No one spoke. No god nor champion dared.
None of us had come through our trials unscathed — except perhaps Aphrodite — but none of us looked like the walking personification of death either. My brows twitched as it dawned on me —this was probably the closest anyone had ever come to death without actually dying.
But then again…
Death was precisely who she was. Who she had always been.
Death could not conquer Nyssa. It could not lay claim to the daughter of Hades, because she commanded it.
Something dark and restless writhed behind my sternum, a feeling I wasn’t sure I could name. I should have looked away. Should have ignored my baser instincts. Instead, I found myself seeking her gaze and finding it already waiting for me.
She held me hostage for a heartbeat with nothing more than a look.
Then, despite everything — the gore, the wounds, the pain — Nyssa fucking smirked , bloodstained teeth bared for all to see.
“Apologies for keeping you all waiting. I got held up,” she deadpanned, her haunting voice low and sharp.
Ares scoffed while Aros grinned. His bonded manticore huffed an amused chortle from its lion head, its long, scorpion tail swishing from side to side. It was an impressive beast — too bad Aros had given it a less than impressive name.
I remained frozen, unwilling to trust my body’s insane desire to go to her, to cut down anybody who stood in my way.
I did not realise that this might include my own bonded wolf.
Lykos bared his teeth at Nyssa and growled.
She reeks of hydra venom, he snarled.
Hydra? How in Tartarus is she still standing?
She won’t be for much longer.
Nyssa gritted her teeth. “I see I’m not the only latecomer.”
Distractedly, I registered she was right. Another champion was still missing.
“Unfortunately, Hestia has not returned,” my mother grumbled. “Therefore, she is hereby disqualified from the Ascension Rite.”
I vaguely noted Athena and Artemis gaping, but my eyes were locked on Nyssa’s now trembling form. Blood dripped steadily between her fingers — her wounds weren’t closing like they should have.
But it was her eyes that troubled me the most. They flitted about the room, wide and confused, as though she was seeing things the rest of us couldn’t.
Lykos, what does hydra venom do to a god?
A sinking dread pulsed through me.
I cannot comment on the effects on gods. He rumbled into my mind. In wolves, it causes a searing, burning pain in the veins — like our blood has turned to liquid metal. Healing is impaired until the venom is extracted. If not… permanent paralysis of the limb can occur.
Nyssa flinched and her eyes flicked. She was mumbling something unintelligible. The gods all watched her cautiously, curiously.
No one moved to help her. Not even me.
The dragon climbed up her arm to perch on her shoulder, screeching in her face. Nyssa blinked at the purple creature, eyebrows slashed together like she had no recollection of the tiny thing. Her skin was growing paler by the second.
Could it cause hallucinations? I asked, almost afraid of the answer.
In this case, yes. I believe it could.
Seconds later, the daughter of Hades crashed to her knees, gasping for breath.
“No!” she screamed. “No, this isn’t right. You’re gone. You left.”
Her eyes darted wildly, unable to settle on anything.
“But why did you go?” she whimpered. “Why did you leave me?”
I slowly wove through the sea of fixated gods, making my way to her side — but somebody beat me there.
The goddess of love whispered to the goddess of death. Nyssa calmed.
I looked up from her haunted expression and met Aphrodite’s eyes — deep blue and steady.
She gestured for me to come closer. I needed no encouragement, my body had been tensed tighter than a minotaur in a pottery store, desperate to scoop her up for what felt like an eternity.
“She hates being touched,” the goddess whispered. “If there’s a barrier, like clothing, it’s okay. But skin-on-skin triggers her powers… they’re sometimes stronger than she is. And the consequences are tragic.”
It all made sense now. Her reaction in the forest. That extreme burst of panic. I felt ill knowing I had caused her to feel that way. Unintentionally, but no less inexcusably.
“I don’t believe anything is stronger than she is,” I replied just loud enough for Aphrodite to hear. Her eyes widened in response to my candour and Nyssa glanced dazedly up at me as if she’d heard.
“I sent him away,” Nyssa sobbed, her voice breaking with grief.
I think my heart actually shattered as her face fell. Gone was the unbreakable girl of seven I’d first met. The hydra venom had stripped her bare, ripping away every mask and facade.
I needed to get her away. Before the wolves descended.
I take offence to that.
Ignoring the beast in my mind, I looked around wildly, searching for an escape. Just as I resigned myself to using sheer brute force, a flicker of movement at the rear of the room caught my eye.
Aros stood by the Parthenon’s gateway, waving at me, gesturing for me to hurry up. Its centre swirled and pulsed, darkness eclipsing the other side from view. He had opened the portal to the Underworld.
Brains as well as brawn, then.
His manticore had cleverly positioned itself between those vultures of gods and the archway. A formidable barrier.
I levelled an intense look at Aphrodite, tilting my head subtly in Aros’s direction. Her gaze flickered and understanding washed over her features. She nodded once, barely perceptible, and began moving slowly, preparing to run the moment we needed her to.
Lykos—
Yes.
He growled his answer before I could even ask, reading my intent before my mind could shape the words.
Lykos let out a roar so thunderous the foundation trembled beneath my feet.
He pounced over my head, landing hard at the feet of Ares and my mother, a growl still rumbling in his chest. All eyes snapped to the commotion.
Gods cowered, fearful of the gigantic wolf who was one snap away from taking their heads.
Aphrodite pulled Nyssa upright, supporting her as she hobbled over to Aros. The dragon clung to her long braid, swaying side to side as they hurried. Together, Aros and Aphrodite shoved Nyssa through the gateway, sealing it behind her.
So far, her absence remained unnoticed.
Thank you, Lykos.
I stared at the empty archway, my chest squeezing uncomfortably. I could only hope she was safe.
My last view of her was the darkness swallowing her whole.
I drew a long breath and shoved my worry aside, knowing Charon would be there. He’d undo the damage the hydra had caused. He would pick up her broken pieces.
And I could drown my turmoil in another bottle of wine.